


Only For You

by SadakoTetsuwan



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Breastfeeding, Butt Plugs, Comfort, Established Relationship, Hanzo is a good husband, Humiliation, I'm not sinning you're sinning, Is it really lactation kink if all of the lactation is gentle and soft, Lactation, Lactation Kink, M/M, Male Lactation, Power Bottom Hanzo Shimada, Praise Kink, SOFT GAYS, actual medical explanation for male lactation, and decidedly not tied to sex?, lolol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2018-10-12 01:55:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10479453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SadakoTetsuwan/pseuds/SadakoTetsuwan
Summary: Jesse hates his embarrassing medical condition. Hanzo just wants his cowboy to be happy and healthy.---I started working on this back in anticipation of OW Kink Week, but as it turns out this was my favorite thing so I didn't end up writing anything else LOLOLOLOL





	1. Chapter 1

McCree let out a soft, relieved sigh as he settled back against the headboard, unbuttoning his shirt and revealing his sore, swollen pecs, grateful to be rid of the cloth rubbing against his sensitive skin. “You coming to bed, darlin’?” he called, casually unbuckling his belt and shimmying out of his jeans.

Hanzo poked back into the bedroom, rubbing his wet head with a towel. “No patience,” he chuckled, his low-slung obi keeping his yukata barely closed as he padded to their bed.

“Been lookin’ forward t’ this all day,” Jesse smiled, holding his arms out. “C’mere, honey.”

Hanzo felt warmth creep into his cheeks as he crawled into McCree’s lap, tucking his head under Jesse’s jaw and enjoying the heat of his husband’s body. He always felt like a furnace, burning like the sun in that old fable, gentle and warm and persuasive. McCree tipped his head down and kissed Hanzo’s brow, a soft sigh leaving him as he shifted slightly, his hand rising to gently massage his chest.

“I’m ready for ya, darlin’,” he whispered, nuzzling him and almost shyly pulling at his nipple, a creamy drop of milk beading there.

Hanzo sighed happily as he slid down in Jesse’s lap, his lips parting and fixing firm around Jesse’s dark, swollen nipple. He slid his arms around McCree and held him as he suckled gently, always worried about overstimulating his poor cowboy, especially after going most of the day without relief of that pressure. Hanzo knew he was doing well when Jesse seemed to melt into the pillows, a quiet sigh leaving him.

“That feels so good,” he whispered, his cheeks flushing as he cradled Hanzo’s head against his breast, relaxing as his husband nursed quietly. “You’re so good to me, darlin’,” Jesse murmured, “So gentle, so sweet…” he breathed, smiling. “An’ handsome to boot.”

Hanzo smiled as he swallowed down a mouthful of sweet warm milk, pulling back from Jesse’s breast. “You flatter me,” he whispered, shifting to take his other nipple in his mouth. He needed to release the pressure before he focused on emptying Jesse.

“I love you,” Jesse corrected, stroking Hanzo’s cheek with his smooth metal thumb. “More’n anything,” he smiled, kneading and scritching at Hanzo’s scalp as he gently worked his other sore, swollen breast. “Wouldn’t never do this for nobody else,” Jesse murmured, his cheeks flushing darker. The thought of anyone else being so close to him, drinking his milk…

Of course Angela knew about his condition; she’d diagnosed his ‘microprolactinoma’, after all, and doctors were good about keeping their patients’ conditions secret, but even answering cold, clinical, scientific questions about his milk production and asking about ways to handle his sore, full breasts was enough to make him want to die. He’d pushed as hard as he could to get her to remove it, but she insisted it was too small to safely operate, and being benign, she refused to administer more drastic treatments.

“A doctor’s first duty is to do no harm,” she had said, “While I certainly want to help you, I cannot justify such aggressive treatment. I told you, it’s _benign_. It doesn’t even show signs of growing, and this is the only symptom you are showing. Count yourself lucky, and we will work to manage this condition. But I won’t cut open your brain.”

Sharing his condition with Hanzo had been mortifying…for weeks after, he didn’t believe that Hanzo didn’t think he was a disgusting freak. Not even after Hanzo helped him empty himself out once, just as calm and quiet as he ever was.

Catching Hanzo’s eye and seeing that hint of pink in his cheeks as Jesse had made a mess of his hands had been enough to set humiliated tears prickling in his eyes. The pain was what had made them fall. He’d never cried in front of Hanzo before then. McCree had tried to break up with him right then and there.

‘With everything we have seen and done with each other’s bodies…you think _this_ will put me off?’

Hanzo had proposed to him almost as soon as Jesse got discharged from the infirmary after that mission. That was the second time he cried in front of Hanzo. The third time was, of course, their wedding day. He could hardly stop crying over his handsome gentle caring loving clever strong sexy smart _beautiful_ archer.

Hanzo had shyly asked a few months later about his milk. A few months after that, Jesse had quietly offered his breast, his blush creeping down past his shoulders.

He’d been surprised at how good it felt, not just squeezing himself out in the shower or into the sink, but…sharing. Watching Hanzo nurse from him, cradling him close, staring into his deep brown eyes and seeing his love and affection and warmth, all of those feelings that Hanzo only shared with him…

He’d grown used to crying over how much he loved Hanzo. Even now, almost two years after their first nursing session, he still cried on occasion. For years, he’d felt so vulnerable, so emasculated, so betrayed by his own body, but Hanzo made him feel so safe, confident, manly, even as he held Hanzo to his breast and nursed him in the evenings. The trust he felt, the bond they shared…

“Yer so beautiful, Han,” he whispered, feeling his throat close up as he smiled, the pressure ebbing away as Hanzo suckled. He gently unlatched, licking his lips and burying his face in the deep, hairy cleft of McCree’s chest, inhaling his earthy musk with a smile.

“I love you, Jesse,” Hanzo whispered, leaning up to nuzzle against his jaw almost submissively. McCree’s arms slid around his broad torso, holding him close and letting out a trembling sigh.

“Love you more, sugarpie…”

“I doubt that,” Hanzo chuckled, cupping Jesse’s cheek and leaning in for a warm, whiskery kiss.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flashback time! And from here on out, lol
> 
> Like, this is basically a one shot plus three chapters of backstory. Welcome to the backstory.

Hanzo felt almost childish as he waited for Jesse to leave the bathroom, squirming impatiently and biting his lip as the plug in his ass shifted. He’d been working himself up all day waiting for McCree to return from his mission, and now that his cowboy was dallying in the bathroom, it was almost too much for him to stand.

“Jesse?” he called, breathless. “Are you coming to bed?”

“I’ll be right there,” McCree called back, his tone casual. Hanzo let out a frustrated sound and slid off the bed, moving carefully as he peeked into the bathroom to see what was taking so long.

McCree was leaning over the sink, his forehead resting against the mirror. He was breathing deeply as he carefully kneaded his left pec, steady streams of milk squirting into the sink. He glanced over at the doorway, his cheeks warming slightly as he caught sight of Hanzo. He stopped emptying himself and quickly turned the water on, splashing his face and toweling himself off as subtly as possible. “Just freshenin’ up,” he murmured.

Hanzo padded forward and slid his arms around McCree’s waist, inhaling his scent and finding himself disappointed to only smell soap. “I’m ready for you to come to bed,” he purred, kissing the base of Jesse’s neck.

“I’ll be right there,” McCree murmured, rubbing the back of Hanzo’s hand.

“No, Jesse, I mean _I am ready for you_ ,” he smirked, reaching down to cup Jesse’s fat cock through his boxers. “Come to bed.”

“Hoo, ain’t gotta tell me twice,” McCree chuckled, dropping the towel on the counter and hurrying after him.

 

 

Jesse loved how undone Hanzo came while going for a long, hard ride. His hair was wild and damp, his cheeks flushed, his pupils blown wide, both of their bellies painted with ribbons of cum, his jaw slack, drooling with pleasure, wordless cries of pleasure leaving him with every thrust, his arms shaking, his powerful thighs trembling as he struggled to hold still while Jesse’s cock pistoned deep inside him.

“God, baby, yer gorgeous,” Jesse groaned, his voice low and hoarse as he gripped Hanzo’s waist, holding him up as he drove toward his climax, panting and keening in pleasure.

“S-sou…ah, Jesse! M-motto…motto—!” Hanzo gasped, unable to hold himself still anymore as he began pumping his hips back against Jesse, throwing his head back as he worked, “Haah, k-kimi no futamara—s-sugei!” he cried.

“Mou ikkai, ike yo,” McCree growled into Hanzo’s ear, a wolfish grin on his lips as he gripped Hanzo’s thighs tightly. He'd learned so much dirty Japanese from Hanzo…

“Y-yuku—yuku zo—! Ha-aah, Jesseeeee!” Hanzo cried, howling with pleasure as he slammed himself down on McCree’s dick, his flushed body clenching and trembling as he came. God damn, he was pretty as a picture like that, the air tingling and crackling as the dragon was finally sated. McCree pushed himself up, moaning as he helped Hanzo settle on his cock again, gently bouncing his exhausted husband along his length.

“C’mon, baby,” he groaned, his cheeks hot as he sucked and bit and marked up Hanzo’s shoulders. “You know what I need, sugar…”

“Ahh, J-Jesse, you’re perfect,” Hanzo whimpered, his head lolling back as he tensed along Jesse’s length, teasing him closer and closer to the edge. “Nnh, y-yokatta…y-you’re doing so well, ah, good boy…” Hanzo looped his arms around Jesse’s broad shoulders, leaning down to press an exhausted, but hungry kiss to his lover’s parched mouth.

“Oh baby…ah, Hanzo, darlin’, I’m close,” Jesse whispered, his brow creased in concentration as he carefully rolled his hips up into Hanzo’s sore body. “O-oh baby, you feel so good.”

Hanzo groaned in approval, his dull nails slowly dragging up McCree’s back, over powerful muscles under a soft, positively squeezable layer. His cowboy was a little softer than he might have been at the height of his Blackwatch days, but he was certainly still in top form for a man his age…perfect for a man with such an active, _demanding_ husband as Hanzo.

“Ah, just how I like it,” Hanzo moaned, grinning into McCree’s shoulder and running a hand through his tousled hair, scritching at his scalp the way he knew Jesse liked it. It earned him a few harder bucks, and Hanzo’s deep, satisfied moan surged straight to McCree’s cock.

“You’re so good for me, Jesse,” Hanzo panted, “Ahhh…your cock fills me up just right,” he whimpered, rocking against him with a little more intent. He wasn’t sure he could cum again, but he could certainly still find pleasure in Jesse’s fat, weeping dick. “Fill me, Jesse…haah, g-good boy…”

Hanzo’s body clutched Jesse tightly and he came unwound, a surprised gasp leaving McCree as he rolled his hips in time with his body, his sticky load buried deep inside Hanzo.

“Ah…such a good boy,” Hanzo whispered, laying soft kisses along his cheek and jaw, nibbling softly at Jesse’s earlobe. The heat, the pressure as McCree finished, filling him to the brim…he could never stop singing his sweet cowboy’s praises. He trembled in McCree’s lap for a few long, tender moments, relishing the heat, the tender kisses, Jesse’s ragged breath in his ear. Two people had never been more perfectly made for one another, he was sure of it.

A soft whine of protest left him as Jesse’s softening member finally slipped free, McCree groaning in relief as he laid back down, a thoroughly well-fucked smile on his lips. Only when they had come apart, however, did Hanzo notice the chill of the room against his chest. He glanced down, his cheeks heating up as he noticed how…wet their chests had become. He bit his lip, his gaze flicking across Jesse’s broad, hairy chest—the little droplets of milk that clung to him were difficult to distinguish from Hanzo’s fluids, but there was no mistaking it.

He slid off of Jesse’s hips and settled in against his side, resting his head against his husband’s strong shoulder and sighing as his metal arm, thoroughly warmed by their activities, pulled him close and stroked his bicep in return.

“…Jesse?” he began softly, earning a tone from the larger man, “…Did you finish emptying your breasts before we began?”

McCree frowned at the question, immediately looking down at his chest with a harshly critical eye. “…I, uh…didn’t make things…unpleasant, did I?” he asked, his gaze flicking over to Hanzo for just a moment. He hated talking about his ‘condition’.

“No, love,” Hanzo smiled, leaning up and kissing Jesse’s cheek. “I’m sorry if I rushed you, is all.”

“I-I can go finish up,” he said quickly, sitting up only to find Hanzo’s callused hand pushing him back down.

“You’re fine, darling,” Hanzo said, laying across him a little more fully. “Stay with me.”

McCree squirmed slightly, suddenly acutely aware of the lingering fullness in his chest.

“…No, Hanzo, I-I really need to go n’ take care of this,” he insisted after only a few moments, sliding out from under his whining husband and hurrying back into the bathroom. Hanzo pouted as he was left alone in the bed, slowly sliding off and pulling his prosthetics out from their place next to the nightstand. He wiggled his ‘toes’ for a moment before padding for the bathroom, knocking on the doorframe.

“…Jesse? Can we talk?”

McCree’s frown wasn’t so much seen as felt in the air.

“After I’m finished,” he said.

“Do you need any help?” he began to ask, though he was quickly cut off.

“ _No_ , Hanzo—no more.”

Hanzo pulled back from the door, surprised to find Jesse so firmly putting his foot down on the subject. It was something he wanted to talk about—that they _needed_ to discuss, no different than talking about their prostheses and caring for their limbs.

McCree emerged almost twenty minutes later, looking significantly less pleased than he did before. He sat down on the bed, his gaze focused on the rug between his feet.

“…Anata?” Hanzo murmured reaching out and rubbing McCree’s back. “I didn’t mean to upset you, my love…”

“‘S alright…I ain’t mad at you, darlin’,” McCree murmured, sitting unusually still. He took a deep breath and held it, relishing the parts of him that he _could_ control, that he _could_ tell to stop and start at will. He let it out in a big sigh, resting his elbows on his knees as he tried to gather his words.

“I just…I hate that my body does this,” he murmured, squeezing his eyes shut as he felt them begin to prickle, and struggled to swallow through the lump in his throat. Damnit, he didn’t want to cry about this anymore…not in front of anyone. Not in front of Hanzo.

Hanzo moved quickly, his arms sliding around Jesse’s shoulders and holding himself close, peppering McCree’s neck and shoulder with tiny kisses.

“Daijoubu…sssh, Jesse, it’s alright…I’m here,” he whispered, squeezing him tight. His strength was never in doubt, of course, and the pressure was comforting, that was certain. “I love you,” he cooed, “I love everything about you. Every scar, every blemish, everything. Suteki zo,” he breathed.

McCree sighed softly, Hanzo’s words washing over him like little cool little ocean waves, soothing the heat that his humiliation brought to his cheeks.

“Love you, too, doll,” he murmured. “Jes’…don’t see how…”

“It is fate,” Hanzo smiled. “You don’t see how I could love your stink, either,” he added, pressing his face into the crook of Jesse’s neck and inhaling deeply. Jesse giggled softly at Hanzo’s little demonstration, accepting his soft words and affection.

At least on the surface.

He knew that Hanzo loved him, that Hanzo loved him in spite of his ‘condition’—he’d seen Jesse at his worst, nearly in tears, but too injured to empty himself, but hadn’t asked any questions beyond ‘what do you need me to do’…

Hanzo was too good for him.

The smiling, gently affectionate man at his back had helped him quietly, tried to distract him from the pain, but said nothing about the milk spraying across his fingers, wetting his gi and hakama…indeed, he hadn’t said anything about it from then until now.

Why now?

“I’m…I’m pretty tired, honey,” McCree murmured, reaching back and stroking Hanzo’s hair. “Thinkin’ we better lie down, get some sleep. You got a mission comin’ up in a few days, ain’t’cha?”

“Mmm," Hanzo toned, leaning into McCree’s touch like a large cat. He released his hold long enough for McCree to settle back on the bed before curling up at his side again, his tattooed arm curling around McCree’s waist. “I love you, Jesse.”

“Love ya, Han,” McCree murmured, pulling the covers up tightly around them.


	3. Chapter 3

_Jesse,_

_I’m sorry I didn’t wake you before leaving for my mission, but you were sleeping so soundly, I didn’t want to trouble you._

_I didn’t mean to upset you the other night. I know how private you are, and I know how upset your body makes you—I wish it weren’t so. I do love you, my darling, and your condition does not trouble or disgust me._

_I wish you would trust me to know about it, however._

_You are my husband—I have a responsibility to look after you and protect you and care for you, but how can I do that when you keep such a secret from me? I cannot ask Angela—the honor of a doctor will not allow her to tell me such secrets, not even as your husband._

_Anata, I love you. I care about you deeply, and I want to make sure you are happy and healthy. Why do you think I stop you from drinking and smoking so much?_

_I won’t force the issue, but I hope you will choose to explain your condition to me._

_-Hanzo_

 

 

“It started when I was in Blackwatch,” McCree murmured, sitting on the floor next to Hanzo, resting his head on the older man’s shoulder. “Really freaked me out, ‘cause we weren’t supposed t’ be doin’ anything with chemicals or that supersoldier stuff Jack an’ Gabe were involved with, so I had Angela check me out, make sure there wadn’t nothin’ gettin’ snuck in my food or nothin’… turned out there’s this itty bitty tumor in my brain, an’ she won’t cut it out or zap it with a laser or nothin’.”

“And this tumor,” Hanzo murmured, “Causes your…condition?”

“Yeah. Pumps out the wrong kind o’ hormones,” McCree sighed. “Been dealin’ with this fer pert near fifteen years. I hate it,” he muttered. He was silent for a moment before sitting up straight. “But hey, Angie said one of the usual symptoms is trouble gettin’ it up, so I’m lucky.”

“Jesse, please be serious.”

“I am,” McCree replied, looking over at Hanzo. “That’s why she won’t do nothin’ about it. Long as the tumor don’t grow, and it ain’t done since she started keepin’ track, my symptoms prolly won’t change. But you go rootin’ ‘round in someone’s pituitary gland with a stick tryna find a tumor the size of a sesame seed, and yer liable t’ cause all sorts of problems ‘sides too much prolactin. So I take the odd migraine every now an’ then, and…and the breast milk.”

Hanzo frowned slightly and slid closer to Jesse, nuzzling his shoulder. “What can I do to help?” Hanzo asked softly, his gaze flicking up to McCree’s rugged face. McCree sighed, shaking his head.

“Nothin’,” he murmured. “It ain’t gonna stop…”

“That is not what I meant,” Hanzo murmured, reaching up and cupping his scruffy cheek. “How can I help you?”

McCree frowned, turning to look him more fully in the eye. “What do you mean, darlin’?”

“How can I make you comfortable? What do you need?” Hanzo asked, trying not to sound exasperated. Jesse was no fool—he couldn’t really be misunderstanding him, could he? “Do you need tea? A heating pad? Assistance throughout the day?” he asked, his cheeks flushing lightly. “What do you need for me to help you feel better?”

McCree could do little more than stare. Hanzo was too good for him. Here he was, telling Hanzo about how his body refused to understand that he was a man, and Hanzo was asking him how he could help him…

“…I need you t’ keep on lovin’ me,” McCree murmured, kissing his forehead. “Darlin’, you know how to make me feel like a man. Even just after I’ve finished drainin’ myself…the way y’ look at me makes me feel so…w-well, manly.”

“That,” Hanzo began, stroking Jesse’s cheek with a smile, “Will not be difficult,” he smiled, leaning up to kiss Jesse. “How could I not see you for the man you are, cowboy? Don’t answer that,” he added as McCree opened his mouth to start his self-deprecation again. “Is there anything in particular that can help?”

“…Heatin’ pad sounds real nice,” Jesse mumbled, his cheeks warming softly. “Angela told me t’ empty out after a shower, ‘cause the heat makes it easier, but I ain’t showerin’ 3 or 4 times a day…People might get suspicious.”

“I shall procure one for you,” Hanzo chuckled, leaning against him and sighing. “…Is there anything else I can do to help?” he asked softly, his cheeks warming at the question he wouldn’t even dare admit he wanted to ask.

“Ain’t that enough?” McCree asked, blinking. “I-I mean, ain’t no reason t’ make this the center of yer life, Hanzo…hell, it’s my tits, and even I don’t make it the center of my life.”

“I merely want to care for you properly,” Hanzo added, blushing. “I want to help you…”

“…I know, baby, I know,” Jesse murmured, squeezing him lightly and kissing his forehead. “I love you.”

“Love you, too,” Hanzo murmured, smiling softly at the little kiss.


	4. Chapter 4

Jesse’s face was beet red as he climbed into bed—even in the darkness of the room, he was sure his cheeks must be glowing. Hanzo didn’t seem to notice, his eyes slowly trailing up and down across the pages of his book. He’d always preferred paper books, the smell, the texture, the warmth of needing a lamp to read by, turning the white pages the color of warm parchment.

McCree bit his lip as he pulled the covers up over himself and laid his heating pad across his chest. Maybe if Hanzo didn’t say anything, he could let this whole thing pass by…

“…You aren’t going to undress?” Hanzo asked, turning the page and continuing to read.

“…I…I thought,” Jesse began, his neck feeling unusually hot as his blush crept downward. “N-nevermind,” he muttered quickly, looking away and shivering. How could he shiver when everything felt so unpleasantly _hot_?

Hanzo was quick to lay his book aside, but not hurried. “What is it?” he asked, sliding closer to McCree. His gaze flicked down to the heating pad for a moment, his brow wrinkling. “…Have you not emptied yourself yet?” he asked softly, reaching up to brush his fingers through Jesse’s hair.

McCree bit the inside of his cheek, his toes curling into the bed.

“N-not yet…” he mumbled, daring to look back at Hanzo, who looked politely confused. It was clearly too late to turn back now…and he’d decided to do this, hadn’t he? He didn’t back down from decisions. “Y-you asked me, couple o’ times…if I needed yer help with this…” he whispered, clutching the blankets to keep his hands from shaking.

“Do you need help?” Hanzo asked, reaching out and rubbing his shoulder gently.

“Well, I…I’m thinkin’ that maybe…you _want_ t’ help me…” McCree began, squirming slightly. “And…an’ I trust you, baby,” he added softly, looking anywhere but at Hanzo. He just couldn’t. He _did_ trust Hanzo, and he loved his husband more than anything…but it didn’t ease his embarrassment.

“…Jesse?” Hanzo murmured, his cheeks warming as well.

McCree carefully slid the heating pad from his chest and fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, more and more of his hairy chest revealed with each button. As long as he was just looking at the dark hair on his chest, his arms, his legs, he felt confident. Strong. Masculine. But as the shirt fell aside and revealed his peaked, swollen, tender nipples, little droplets of milk pearling there now that the cotton had been pulled aside… He couldn’t look. He turned aside, squeezing his eyes shut and trembling, biting his lip. It wasn’t right…god damned tumor.

He jumped as Hanzo’s warm hand slid across his abs, gently rubbing his stomach and sides. His touch was so gentle…

Hanzo blushed, settling against Jesse’s side as he continued stroking him. “I love you” he whispered, leaning down and kissing Jesse’s shoulder, nuzzling him gently. He looked up at Jesse’s face and frowned slightly at how upset he looked, the humiliated heat in his cheeks, the way he trembled…

“L-love you, too…” he breathed, whimpering softly as Hanzo’s hand slid over his pec, gently cupping Jesse’s breast. Hanzo gently massaged him, pressing down into his firm muscle before carefully pulling up, trying not to jump in surprise as Hanzo teased out a little stream of milk from his nipple. He let out a soft sound again, trying not to think about last time Hanzo helped him…he didn’t hurt this time, which was nice, and Hanzo’s touch was gentle but firm—confident. He would have expected nothing less.

Hanzo frowned as he glanced around the room for a moment. There was nothing to hold Jesse’s milk, and he definitely didn’t want to make a mess of the bed—he’d just changed the linens. He froze for a moment as a solution pried its way out of the dark corner he had banished it to. ‘There is no other way,’ it whispered excitedly in his ear, his cheeks heating up.

“Jesse…Th-there is nothing to empty you into. I’m going to use my mouth…okay?” he whispered. He had the distinct impression this was what Jesse had intended, but with how he was shaking…

“That’s fine,” McCree whispered, humiliated tears prickling in his eyes again. “I-I trust you, darlin’,” he added, trying to still his trembling body.

“I love you,” Hanzo whispered, blushing as he lowered his mouth to Jesse’s chest, his lips latching around McCree’s meaty pec, the way Jesse so often did with him when they were making love. He blushed as he gently began to suckle, trying to banish the thought of sex in that moment. He was here to help Jesse, not to satisfy his own urges.

Hanzo shivered as the first warm splash of milk fell across his tongue, his hold on Jesse tightening. He tasted…wonderful. Warm and sweet and rich… He couldn’t imagine a more perfect flavor for what Jesse should taste like. He sighed quietly, his eyes slipping closed as he settled against his husband’s warm body, one hand rising and resting on McCree’s sternum as he suckled, gently running his dull nails across Jesse’s skin.

Jesse whimpered at the gentle touch, a shuddering sigh leaving him. He couldn’t deny that the warm mouth on his breast felt good…much better than just wringing himself out into the sink, or even emptying in a nice long, hot shower. Hanzo’s mouth was so much gentler than his own fingers, and the warm weight of his husband pressing down on his trembling body was almost relaxing. He dared to open his eyes, looking down at Hanzo as he…as he _nursed_.

He hated that he lactated. He hated it more than anything else about himself—that was certain. But seeing Hanzo laying against him, so relaxed, so gentle, holding him close, protecting him as he emptied his breasts for him…it was almost more than he could take.

“H-Hanzo…”

Hanzo’s thick lashes fluttered slightly and his gaze lifted, slowly drifting across Jesse’s face. The heat in his cheeks, the tremble of his lip, the confusion he could see in his cowboy’s eyes—equal parts self-loathing and relief. Hanzo reached up and ran a finger along McCree’s cheek, unlatching from Jesse’s breast and smiling gently.

“I love you, darling,” Hanzo whispered, gently cupping his husband’s cheek and holding him. McCree let out a soft sob, leaning down to press his forehead against Hanzo’s, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Sssh…daijoubu,” he soothed, gently bumping his nose against Jesse’s. “Let me take care of the other,” Hanzo whispered. McCree nodded, attempting to speak, to thank him—but all that came out was another sob.

Hanzo pecked Jesse on the forehead before leaning down, quietly nursing from McCree’s other breast. The gentle release of pressure set the younger man at ease, his head slowly falling back against the pillows as Hanzo gently rubbed his shoulders, his arm, his chest…

“B-baby, yer too good fer me,” McCree sobbed, hiding his face in his arm. His free hand, however, rose to cradle Hanzo’s head against his breast, gently scritching his scalp, running his fingers through Hanzo’s hair…he was truly a gift. “I love you so much, Ha-Hanzo…”

“I love you, too, Jesse,” Hanzo whispered, wiping at his mouth before moving back over to tend Jesse’s other pec. “Let me know when you are empty. I don’t know how long it might take like this.”

“O-okay,” McCree sniffed, looking away again.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, nuzzling his jaw gently. “It’s just you and me. Your secret is safe with me, my love.”

“I know,” McCree whispered back, gently rubbing Hanzo’s back. “J-just…keep going,” he murmured, his ears burning. He didn’t want to say out loud that it felt good—he couldn’t bear to admit that. If he didn’t say anything, then no one could prove it, right?

Jesse let out a soft sound as Hanzo steadily drained him, his warm touch and gentle lips making the process so much smoother and more relaxing than his usual technique. His tears dried up before his milk did, and he was able to spend at least a few quiet, peaceful, warm minutes with Hanzo laying comfortably on top of him, holding one another…the intimacy was almost more than McCree knew how to handle, even with Hanzo.

“I-I’m empty,” McCree whispered, his fingers slowly carding through Hanzo’s hair.

“Good,” Hanzo purred in reply, nuzzling McCree’s collarbone gently. “How are you feeling, love?”

“…Good,” he murmured, biting the inside of his lip. “…A-and…scared, I think? I-I don’t know…”

“Scared?” Hanzo asked, sitting up slightly and looking down at him with the worried expression of a mother bird.

“…I don’t know what t’ think about…th-this,” he mumbled, his cheeks burning. “I-I could never ask you t’ do this again, Hanzo, I-I…”

“It’s alright,” Hanzo smiled, gently swiping his thumb across Jesse’s burning cheek. “…If you don’t want to do this again, that’s fine. I’m just glad I could help.” He leaned down to peck at Jesse’s cheek, smiling softly. “It seemed to go much quicker than when you work alone,” he remarked, sliding off of Jesse and curling up at his side.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been tempted into writing another chapter of a long-finished fic
> 
> *wipes brow*

Hanzo’s eyes fluttered open as a warm sliver of sunlight tickled his ear, his sleepy gaze falling on Jesse’s face. He was so beautiful, when the tension left his jaw—hard, rugged, natural beauty, a mountain in autumn rather than a sculpture or painting. No, Jesse’s beauty was rough-hewn and untameable, and Hanzo loved every inch of it.

A soft sigh left him as he adjusted his cheek on Jesse’s shoulder, his cheeks warming slightly as his gaze fell down to his cowboy’s blessed chest. Strong, muscular, thick with hair and…

_Abundant, rich, nurturing, fertile, comforting, full…_

Hanzo shivered slightly as he pressed his burning cheeks more fully into Jesse’s shoulder, ignoring the stirring in his loins as best he could. No, Jesse hated that about himself…it was wrong for him to be so intrigued, so eager, to have taken such pleasure in last night… He wrapped an arm around Jesse’s waist and shyly peeked downward again, his gaze drawn to Jesse’s dark, puffy nipples. He would need to empty himself soon—he always did before breakfast. But now that Hanzo knew his taste, the thought of that warm, sweet milk disappearing down the drain was almost painful.

He gently pushed himself up and leaned over his husband’s sleeping form, reaching for his heating pad and gently laying it across Jesse’s chest. The cowboy stirred slightly at the pressure on his breasts, his thick lashes fluttering.

“Han? You up?”

“I’m just going to brush my teeth,” Hanzo murmured, sliding to the edge of the bed and reattaching his prostheses. He felt like he should take a cold shower; the image of Jesse waking up to his lips on his breasts stiffening his cock while shame pooled in his gut. It was fine to want to help him, to make managing his condition as easy as possible, and it was fine for them to wake one another up with kisses and touches, they’d established that long ago—but Hanzo knew, he just _knew_ that the thought that had crept into his mind as he’d gazed down at Jesse’s peaked, swollen nipples was beyond the pale. Jesse would never forgive him if he’d acted on impulse…

Jesse was groggily sitting up when Hanzo returned, the heating pad held loosely in place.

“Mornin’, pumpkin,” Jesse murmured.

“…Do you need any help this morning?” Hanzo asked softly, sliding back onto the bed and trying to focus on Jesse’s needs rather than his own desires.

“With whut?” he slurred, blinking up at Hanzo.

“…With your breasts,” he tried to say with a steady voice. “The way I helped you last night.”

“O-oh.” Jesse seemed to wake up more at the thought, his cheeks heating up as he looked down at the heating pad. “No, no, it’s fine, y’ain’t gotta do that, Hanzo.”

“It’s fine, really,” Hanzo replied, shifting slightly and hoping his erection wasn’t visible. “I don’t mind helping you.”

“There’s things y’ don’t mind that y’ still don’t hafta do,” Jesse murmured, his other hand rising to the heating pad as if to cover himself.

“Jesse, love,” Hanzo said, his tone growing stronger as he shifted closer, the metal of his legs sliding on the bedsheets slightly. “Remember what you said last night? I _want_ to help you.” He clenched his jaw slightly as he admitted it aloud, to keep anything else from slipping out.

“Hanzo…”

“How much time each day do you spend tending to your condition?” Hanzo asked, sitting up a little straighter.

“…I dunno…‘bout half an hour each time,” he murmured, looking away. It didn’t really cross his mind that Hanzo already knew how long it took—after all, he emptied himself at least three or four times a day in Hanzo’s company, and usually only when it got to be painful, in spite of Angela’s insistence that he _not_ do that to himself, if he didn’t want to risk infection and even _worse_ pain in the long run.

“So that’s two hours or so each day on just this task,” Hanzo said. “Let me help you, Jesse. Please, love…you help me with my legs.”

“That’s…that’s different,” Jesse mumbled, his cheeks burning.

“Let me help you for one week,” Hanzo offered. “Whenever you need to empty yourself, let me help. I can’t imagine doing the work manually feels good,” he said, looking down at Jesse’s metal hand pointedly. “…And like I said last night, it seemed to go faster with some help.”

Jesse fiddled with the edge of his heating pad, turning over Hanzo’s proposal in his head.

“…Han? Is…is this…a-a thing fer you?” he asked, his cheeks hot as he tried to subtly look at Hanzo’s crotch, almost sickened at what he might see. “Is that why you keep askin’? Insistin’ on pryin’ about this? Am I sexy like this to you or somethin’?”

Jesse wasn’t sure what he would rather hear. If Hanzo didn’t think he was sexy, then why was he with him? Because there was nobody else…? Because they were just comfortable together now? Was this just something else to put up with like his drinking and smoking and swearing and…every other fault he’d collected over his lifetime of fuck-ups? Was this just something else Hanzo had to ‘fix’ about him? But if the most humiliating thing in his life was some sort of fetish, some secret kink Hanzo had been harboring (‘Shit, he proposed to me after he found out about this…!’), was that the _only_ reason Hanzo wanted him around? Would he want to suck his tits in bed? God, he wasn’t sure he could stand for that…

The seconds dragged on, Hanzo’s cheeks warm and his mouth hanging open slightly at the question.

 _Was_ this sexual for him? He hadn’t even thought about Jesse’s condition like that until _very_ recently. (‘No, no, I’ve wondered since the very first time…well, I suppose I didn’t wonder like _that_ right away, but…’) He’d felt so close to him last night, holding him close, giving him such relief, he’d cried… No, last night wasn’t sexual. It was…it was almost spiritual, if anything, but he certainly couldn’t tell Jesse _that…_! And Jesse was _always_ sexy to him, even when he was sweaty and dirty after a long mission, even in messy clothes, even when he chewed too loud—but would Jesse understand that even in his worst moments, he loved him unconditionally? That he always wanted him…?

“…I see,” Jesse murmured, looking away and swallowing. “I get it.”

“W-wait, Jesse…”

“I won’t do this in bed, Hanzo,” he frowned, “Never, y’hear?”

“I—n-no, Jesse, y-you…you misunderstand. I, this…isn’t a fantasy of mine. I love you, darling, even this…it does not make me love you any less. It does not make you less attractive…but I don’t find it sexual.” Hanzo wasn’t sure if he was lying or not, at the moment. Was it only arousing because it was Jesse? He was pretty sure that was the case…wait—no! No, it wasn’t allowed to be arousing…damnit.

“That there chub of yers says different,” McCree murmured, his cheeks hot with humiliation.

“J-Jesse, please be fair,” Hanzo whimpered. “We just woke up…” He could see the muscles in Jesse’s temple pulsing, his jaw clenched worryingly tight, his body trembling far more than the temperature would suggest.

“…One week. You get yer one week of helpin’ me out. But if I see yer hand in yer pants, it’s done, alright?” Jesse growled, trying to disguise his mortification.

“Understood,” Hanzo nodded, his gaze not leaving Jesse’s, even though he so longed to look down at those full breasts as he pulled the heating pad away.

Perhaps this would be discipline enough to train that filthy corner of his mind, to wrestle those dirty urges into submission. Jesse’s milk wasn’t for lust—it was a precious gift his husband was granting him, and he had to show him the proper gratitude. Hanzo scooted closer, keeping his traitorous cock far from Jesse’s thigh as he leaned down and carefully latched onto his engorged breast, his tongue laving gently against his cowboy’s sore nipple and teasing out the first few warm drops.

How could Jesse hate this…? Something so sweet, so nurturing…something only Jesse could give.

His hands slid up Jesse’s back, holding on gently but securely as he suckled. In spite of the wild mess of hair on Jesse’s chest, his seal was firm; they had been clean last night, and Hanzo intended to remain that way. ‘Not a drop will ever go to waste again,’ he thought, a heady rush flowing through him at the thought of _nursing_ from his sweet cowboy forever. He kept his eyes closed and clenched one fist behind McCree’s back, digging his dull nails into his palm. He had to concentrate—focus on his task. This was _not_ for his pleasure, he reminded himself, this was for Jesse’s comfort.

Jesse’s eyes, too, were closed—screwed shut tight. He didn’t want to think about milk, filling Hanzo’s mouth, trickling down his throat, warming him from the inside—he didn’t want to think about what Hanzo might be thinking of, imagining milking him two ways, or riding him and squeezing his tits like some porn star, or splitting Jesse on his dick while swallowing down mouthful after mouthful of hot, sweet milk, squeezing his free tit and spraying everywhere, taking taking _taking…_

Jesse whimpered in humiliation again and Hanzo’s mouth left his nipple, the cool air of the room hitting him like a blast of arctic wind. McCree dared to peek and watched as Hanzo rearranged himself to switch nipples, holding himself up as he carefully re-latched. Another sour thought sank into Jesse’s belly as he watched Hanzo nurse again, the lines of his face firm in concentration and his body poised for performance. It wasn’t the same as last night…when Hanzo had laid against him, covered him, hid him from the world and suckled his pain and suffering and humiliation away.

It still felt nice (‘God, no, I can’t start admitting that…! But he does feel so much gentler…’), of course, and even though he felt bruised from their conversation minutes before, he _did_ trust Hanzo…he trusted that if this _were_ a kink for him, that he was considerate enough to keep it to himself, just the way Jesse didn’t advertise the fact that he loved eating Hanzo out after a hard fucking, cleaning him so he was _spotless_ , watching him fall to pieces all over again under his tongue—

Shit, don’t get hard, _don’t get hard—_

“I’m empty,” Jesse lied quickly, looking away.

“Impossible,” Hanzo said, pulling back and wiping gently at his lips. “It hasn’t even been 10 minutes.”

“I-I’m sorry, Hanzo, I can’t do this right now!” Jesse cried out, rising quickly from the bed and heading for the bathroom, guilt beginning to eat at him along with the soreness in his still-too-full breasts.

Hanzo had been keeping his end of the bargain perfectly well…

* * *

“Hanzo, c’mere,” Jesse called softly, half-hidden behind the doorframe to the rec room. “Need ya fer a minute.”

“Ooooh, looks like somebody’s getting lucky,” Lucio teased, looking away from the video game he was losing at quite spectacularly.

“Psh, if he only needs him for a minute, is that _really_ lucky?” Hana quipped, her gaze unfaltering.

“Thanks, kids,” Jesse huffed, pouting slightly even as Hanzo rose from his place on the couch and moved to his side silently. He knew what time it was—best not to draw any attention.

“ _K.O.!_ ” the game announced, followed by Athena’s vaguely amused tallying of their score.

“Shall we return to our quarters?” Hanzo asked softly, trying to keep his gaze set straight ahead. He had apparently performed poorly that morning, and he needed to tread cautiously for the next few sessions if he wanted to win Jesse’s ever-fragile trust.

“Yeah…don’t like dealin’ with this anywhere else, if’n I can help it. More secure there,” Jesse said. Not that his room was inherently more secured than any other, but he certainly _felt_ much more secure there. Safe. Shielded. Warm… He just hoped it would feel the same way with Hanzo sharing the experience. After all, once had been fine, but the second time…

Jesse locked the door quickly before unbuttoning his shirt. The soft flannel slipped from his shoulders and he pulled up his undershirt, the black Lycra bunching uncomfortably under his armpits and putting pressure on the top of his pecs—almost immediately, both of his tender nipples began to leak.

“Sh-shit, hurry,” he whimpered, looking back at their locked door with trepidation.

“Hold still,” Hanzo instructed, leaning down and hurriedly taking a pull from each of Jesse’s breasts to relieve some of the pressure. “Please, get comfortable.” Jesse acted without speaking, half-laying on the bed and propping himself up against the headboard, his fingers carefully lifting the tight fabric away from his skin.

Hanzo moved with speed and grace, settling against the curve of Jesse’s stomach and latching on to his ample pec. The relief Jesse felt was almost instantaneous—the soft warmth of Hanzo’s lips and tongue around his aching nipple was enough to drive his embarrassment away for a moment. He was disturbingly efficient, his rough hand rising and massaging the meat of McCree’s breast; he’d been surreptitiously reading up on nursing techniques all morning, and Jesse could feel the difference.

“Good,” Jesse groaned, his cheeks blazing as he admitted it aloud. He pressed his lips together tightly, his body tensing anew at his soft admission. Hanzo made no sign that he had heard Jesse’s praise; he knew it only meant the pressure was lifting—Jesse would never admit anything related to his milk was ‘good’. It made Hanzo’s heart sink a bit, but he knew it was true; after all, he knew his cowboy better than he knew himself.

Hanzo focused on draining Jesse’s breast as quickly as possible before shifting to the other, daring a glance up at Jesse. “Are you alright, love?”

“…Y-yeah,” McCree murmured, his eyes opening for a moment and flicking down to his now empty breast, a sigh of relief leaving him.

“I will drain your other breast before checking one last time, alright?”

“Yer being awfully thorough,” Jesse said, though the suspicion from that morning had been ebbing away.

“I’ve been researching how best to take care of you, anata,” Hanzo smiled, shifting forward and nuzzling the dip in his collar bone. “I know your condition hurts you in more ways than one. I just want to do all I can, now that I know you’re hurting…”

Hanzo felt Jesse’s strong arms wrap around him and pull him close, his cowboy’s cheek mashed against the top of his head as he held him tight.

“I love ya, honey…why’re you so good to me?”

“Because I love you, you fool,” Hanzo laughed softly, his voice slightly muffled against Jesse’s powerful chest. “Shall I finish?”

“Yeah, feelin’ a bit lopsided,” Jesse murmured, an embarrassed chuckle leaving him as he loosened his grip and relaxed against the headboard a bit more. As Hanzo latched on again, he averted his gaze, looking instead at the wall clock.

It _was_ going faster than by himself…

* * *

Jesse awoke as he had every day that week, to the blessed warmth of his heating pad on his chest, and the warm weight of Hanzo lying next to him, far too tense to be asleep.

“Mornin’, honey,” he murmured, turning his head and brushing the hair from his bleary eyes.

“Good morning, Jesse,” Hanzo said, using the oddly professional tone he had begun to use before their little sessions. A week had gone by, and he wasn’t sure if that almost clinical air helped or not. Maybe, Jesse figured, it helped Hanzo—if he was being all professional and courteous, then maybe that helped keep his libido in check. In that case, Jesse was all for waking up to ‘Dr. Shimada’ and his thorough care every morning for as many mornings as he had left, if it meant never going back to his cold steel hand on his swollen breasts every morning. “Are you ready to begin?”

“Seems that way,” Jesse yawned, sliding the heating pad up higher on his chest, uncovering his puffy nipples and shivering slightly as the cool air hit them. Hanzo’s hands were on him in an instant, gently massaging his pecs before his warm lips fell to his breast—always the left first, Jesse thought, still in a sleepy haze. One hand fell to Jesse’s waist as Hanzo steadied himself, his other hand continuing his gentle massage. Jesse sighed quietly, his hand rising to stroke Hanzo’s back in return, a tiny smile coming to his lips. Hanzo was incredibly attentive, just like he was with everything else in their shared life, and had spent hours researching techniques and proper care, had sought out expensive ointments and proper under-armor support. Perhaps most impressively, he’d done it all without Angela’s assistance.

Truth be told, McCree was the most comfortable he’d been in a long time under ‘Dr. Shimada’s’ watchful eye, confident hands, and warm, soft lips. He often found himself nodding off again during their morning sessions, waking up once more when Hanzo gently shifted his weight and began draining off his right breast. It was peaceful, it was gentle, it was…safe.

Hanzo was safe.

“I trust you,” he murmured, reaching up and stroking his archer’s hair gently. Hanzo’s eyes slowly opened at the touch, the soft whisper, and Jesse couldn’t help but blush softly at the look Hanzo was giving him.

His pupils were completely blown, his eyelids heavy, the hints of a smile dancing in the corner of his eyes—he couldn’t smile too widely, or he would ruin his perfect latch. Jesse knew that look by heart, that look was the same after a long, hard fuck, or after sleeping for 12 hours following a particularly demanding mission, or when they were curled up together on the bed with a movie and a half-eaten bowl of popcorn between them. The dragon was _sated_.

Hanzo’s eyes slid shut again as he focused on his task, his fingers carefully moving as he massaged, checking his cowboy before he gave one final swallow, carefully unlatching and shifting. Jesse sighed and shifted slightly with him, helping Hanzo settle on his right and ignoring the slowly hardening cock nudging at his thigh.

“I love you, darling,” Hanzo whispered, his tone almost apologetic, as if he knew what Jesse had noticed. He continued his massage of Jesse’s firm pec, his cheeks warming as he spied creamy little drops already letting down at his mere touch.

“Love you more,” Jesse smiled softly, his steel hand settling heavily in the small of Hanzo’s back.

“I doubt that,” Hanzo chuckled, carefully taking Jesse’s other nipple into his mouth and relaxing against his husband’s warm, strong, chiseled body as his sweet, warm milk filled him.

**Author's Note:**

> Microprolactinoma is a small (<10mm) benign tumor on the pituitary gland which secretes prolactin, a hormone related to several processes in the body, including lactation. In real life, this of course has a quite a few effects on men (e.g. erectile disfunction, loss of body hair, etc.), including lactation--though it's a somewhat rare symptom.
> 
> Don't take medical advice from a fanfic, and definitely don't take a lactation kink fanfic's fantasy medical diagnosis at face value--like, for sure.
> 
> ANYWHO, it's almost all flashback because like so much that I do, I wrote Chapter 1 as a oneshot and then though 'damn, but I really want to write some of these things I alluded to though, but I don't want to go back and change what I've already written'. SO ENJOY MY LACK OF FORESIGHT Y'ALL.


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